Saturday, September 24, 2011

My friend Jameson is moving to Boston. He asked me if I
would like to go with him. I said yes!

Night one was spend in Cedar Rapids, Iowa with James
parents. Cedar Rapids is famous for having five seasons, the fifth season of
course being fun!

Day two was spend with Curtis, his wife Ellen, and Kaylea in
Toledo, Ohio. If Toledo had a fifth season it would be crime. Toledo is
infamous for being the third largest city for sex trafficking and slavery in
the United States.

The third evening was spend in Toronto, Ontario stuck in
traffic! While listening to the radio I learned that “some people have a sweet
tooth but everyone has a meat tooth.”
I also learned that ten percent of Canadians smoke pot. The signs in
Ontario are English but they make no sense, i.e. “ the collector is open
ahead.” What does that mean? Am I
on a toll road?

This morning we arrived in Montreal, Quebec.

Canada depending on it relationship with the United States
is either [ed. Note: Dylan had to
shower for church and the following was written by James] invaluable or
worthless. Their women are
beautiful and their food is delicious.
But Toronto’s traffic jams inspire one to take up bicycling. Their road signs, printed in French, are impossible to
understand—particularly for the two of us, who speak no French. Hmm…maybe that was the problem.

Upon arriving at Brittany’s apartment at 1:45 AM, we felt
certain we’d be shanked on the sidewalk and left to die. Random people wandered through the
streets and alleys. Trash littered
the parking spaces. Thankfully,
Brittany quickly let us in and showed us where to sleep. Her apartment is fantastic! Very clean and comfortable. We were pleasantly surprised to sleep
in a 100% cockroach-free environment.
Thank you, Brittany (and Tammy and Murielle) for your hospitality!

Friday, September 23, 2011

Life and death are knotted together. You cannot have death
without first having life.

Last Thursday, my little sister Allison gave birth to a
beautiful baby girl, Tessa. Holding her in the hospital brought excitement to
my soul that I had never felt before. I have held plenty of babies before but
this one was different because it is my sisters. I can only begin to imagine the enthusiasm that Allison and
Azuri have.

When they checked out of the hospital it felt kind of like
Christmas to me. One year, I got an electric train set from my grandparents. I
was thrilled! I remember my dad giving me instruction on how to operate my new
trains before playing with them. It was kind of like that. The nurse educated
Al on how to care for a new born. I think Allison knew most everything the
nurse told her. But after that we got to take Tessa home for Sabbath lunch! This
was a beautiful celebration of life.

Today was nothing like Sabbath. Today one of guys at the
mission was murdered. He was stabbed to death. Some of his friends from the Mission witnessed it. Thankfully this didn’t happen at the Mission.

One of his friends came in crying with the news, covered in
blood. There were pictures of the paramedics taking him out of the house posted
on the Internet and live footage broadcasted on TV from the crime scene.

Just the day before, I helped this man; Pete cut the lock
off his locker because he had lost his key. I remember talking to him. I had
worked with Pete before. That day Pete turned in his last chore ticket. He was only 29 years old; he had no
idea that tomorrow he would die. Scarier still, the perpetrator had stayed at
the mission before. This is only the fourth homicide to happen in Lincoln this
year.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

I sit here, weary and drained, wondering if I even have the
energy to write. Today was exhausting, day two of three 12-hour shifts. Ad hominem arguments consumed the
day. The assortment of claims
included me being a motherfucker, that I wasn’t a Christian, and that I was a
little bitch.

Some men at the mission only have respect left to give,
while others sadly never learned how to give respect at all.

Shattered
homes, shattered careers, shattered dreams, and shattered lives are the central
stories for the men that live at the Peoples City Mission. For some men, a lifetime’s possessions
have been abandoned. While other men have never even aspired far enough in life
to have had the opportunity to abandoned their possessions. Some men have failed tremendously at
being fathers and the only thing they shall give their children is sorrow and
insecurity, that will haut them for the rest of their lives. Other men have been poor lovers
and have ruined marriages. They
have been abusive both verbally and physical with women. These men have been
reckless in their pursuits.

Many of these men have done nothing honorable with their
lives and for that I am sometimes tempted to despise them.

All of these men have mothers. Some mothers will call the
mission looking for their sons. Other mothers don’t have to go far to see their
sons because they are only divided by a wall that separates the women’s and
family side from the men’s shelter. A few mothers send their sons money. One mother brought her
son McDonalds. Sadly many of the
mothers have given up on their sons and wish to have nothing to do with their
lives.

Despair has took root and flourished in these men’s lives
and rightfully so. I am overwhelmed by their dysfunction and inability to stay
sober, get a job, be responsible, and respect others. And I am equally
terrified by their determinations to roll cigarettes all day, watch TV, abuse
alcohol, and use violence.

I can’t fix these men! I can only attempt to express to them
respect and dignity, which they deserve, contrary to what the world may say.
They too are sons of God and they too can be citizens of Heaven if they choose.
God is able to give them a new ideal and a new optimum, when they have failed,
just as he is able to do the exact same thing for us.

Marvelous expressions of resilience, creativity, and new idealism
are possible among these men who have seen their old world destroyed and are
now being forced to imagine a new one. And there are men like this too at the
mission! Men who are determined to pay their child support and be involved in
their children’s lives. Men who
are resolute to make right their lives with God and with the people they have
hurt. Men who are fearful to look at a beer should they turn back to alcoholism.
These men, though few, are turning their lives around and they are becoming beautiful
and responsible citizens.

About Me

I am a rugged individual. I can grow a beard in a week, file my own taxes, and operate a demo saw. I am a rugged individual but I desire to be more then just a rugged individual, I desire to be servant of God. I want to be lead by his commandments and teachings. I want to have integrity in my personal and public life. I want to be committed to marriage, family, and the community i live in. I want to be a man, a rugged man, that will stand for the right though the heavens fall.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” Mark Twain